I’ll admit that some Bright Eyes stuff is a little too wacky for me, but when they’re good, they’re so damn good. “Take It Easy (Love Nothing)” is a favorite of mine. Even though it’s a kind of horribly sad little song, it’s so intense and awesome that I like to listen to it no matter what mood I’m in. Like today, I’m all chipper because Kathleen and I DID YOGA THIS MORNING BEFORE WORK (be amazed), but this song still sounds great:

Now I do as I please, and I lie through my teethSomeone might get hurt, but it won’t be meShould probably feel cheap, but I just feel freeAnd a little bit empty

No, it isn’t so hard to get close to meThere’ll be no arguments, we’ll always agreeAnd I’ll try to be kind when I ask you to leaveWe’ll both take it easy

As I’ve discussed briefly here, I’m (with some hypocritical exceptions, no doubt) a firm believer that people should do what makes them happy — short of murdering strangers, etc. — and that the people who hate them for doing what they want to do and loving what they want to love should probably find other ways to occupy their time. It made me happy to learn that Jordan Reid agrees, and to read her kickass post on the topic (spurred, not surprisingly, by a holier-than-thou commenter). An excerpt:

When it comes to fashion, to literature, to art, to music, you love what you love; there are no absolutes. But the best way that these people have to make themselves feel awesome is to make sure that you know that your opinions are wrong. They make you feel scared to say that hey, you kinda like Hootie and the Blowfish, or that you think that rockabilly hairstyles are pretty cool, or that you enjoy reading paperback thrillers sometimes, because they’re going to laugh at you, and mock you, and otherwise shut you down. They’re going to tell you that your taste is terrible, that your job is unimportant, that your ideas aren’t good enough, that you chose the wrong life partner or house or diet or freaking dinner plate pattern.

And that is a crappy thing to do.

If you don’t read Jordan’s blog, Ramshackle Glam, you should start now. It’s one of the best — and certainly the most aesthetically pleasing — out there.

I’ve always liked that one song Josh Groban sings that makes me cry, but I never thought much about the guy until I saw this video. Now I’m completely and totally in love with him. Watch out, Katherine Heigl! [Ed Note: Oops, that’s Josh Kelley. So, er, just watch out, Josh Groban!]

I pretended to care about sports, like, three times. (My dad was impressed that I could describe a first down. Really, Dad? Thanks for the confidence.)

I got to hang out in Colorado for ten days with my pup and fam and two friends from home who are actually still in Denver.

I severely jammed and/or broke my toe. I was sitting upstairs in my dad’s office, minding my own business, and feeling annoyed that the Christmas socks I was wearing were toe socks. I HATE toe socks. Like pants are to your legs, they’re like prisons for your toes. Obviously, I pulled all of my toes out of the toe prison parts, so there was some extra material just flappin’ around. Then the doorbell rang, so I rang down the carpeted stairs, my feet slipped out from under me, and my right foot rammed into the wall. Then my dog started barking his head off in my face, and I almost murdered him. I had to answer the door all like, “Oh, hi, sorry, just fell down the stairs. No, I’m totally not about to cry. Haha, okay, thanks for the spiced nuts, neighbor.” Then my toe started to really hurt. Then I went on a pub crawl that involved a lot of walking. Then my toe turned sort of black. Then purple. Now it’s just sort of bulbous and can’t bend, so I’m fine, but REALLY MALLORY? You couldn’t walk for a week because you fell down the stairs wearing slippery Christmas toe socks?! Because I have a history of showing you my injuries for no reason at all, here’s a picture of the toe at its purplest. You’re welcome:

So Happy New Year’s Eve Eve, dear readers, and get excited: 2011 is going to be THE BEST YEAR EVER! You know why? It’s 2011! Which means 11/11/11 is finally coming! Which means I can have my gala! You’re all invited, so I’ll keep you posted. I seriously cannot wait.